The door clicks open making me whip my head to the entrance. “I came as soon as I heard”. Isaiah’s voice is strained. Gregory finally raises his head to the owner of the voice. I cannot understand the silent communication they have. Isaiah's usual perfectly styled hair is dishevelled. He moves forward standing beside his cousin. His hands clutch the railing of the bed till his knuckles turned white. His eyes are hard but his face shows nothing. This seems to be the reaction of the men in this family, their eyes show their emotions if you look hard enough but their faces show nothing.“Is there anyone you suspect?”. Isaiah breaks the sorrowful silence with a thick Italian accent. Revealing that when he is emotional his accent is pronounced.Gregory opens his mouth and shuts it, just the way a fish would act. He raises his eyes to fix it on me. This time I cannot tell what his eyes say. Isaiah's eyes move to me too. His mind is working out things I cannot understand. The wheels in my

Ellie shuts the door behind her and the room is silent, a very awkward silence on my path. My mind is racing trying to understand what occured here. The man who has been unperturbed by anything concerning me is the one who is here, on my bed, with his legs leisurely crossed as he scrolls through his tablet. What changed? Only few hours ago he was mad that I didn't tell him things, now he is asking for me to be served. My eyes trail over to the side of his face. He looks relaxed, freshly shaven but there's a bit of stress around his eyes. I bet it's from the attack of his father. “Is there any reason your eyes are on me?”. There's no doubt of the slight mockery in his tone, he caught me gawking at the side of his face. You can't blame a girl, scratch that, a woman. This man has been mean to me for months and now he is causally sitting here like nothing happened. “What do you want?”. The question is out of my mouth before I know it. There's no going back since it's out on the table.

Gregory's POVIsaiah called me up to meet at an abandoned warehouse. I'm guessing it is one of his old warehouses. The area surrounding the warehouse is abandoned. Most of the lights meant to keep the place bright are busted. The only one that is still functioning flickers uncontrollably. The paint of the warehouse is washed out, overgrown grasses by the side giving the entire area an eerie feel. Knowing Isaiah he preferred things this way, Creepy. I can't blame him though. When you lead the kind of life that he does, it has to be so. The doors of the warehouse are sliding doors and it is opened to allow one person in at a time. A single yellow dim light flickers at the very end inside the warehouse. It isn't empty as opposed to what a passerby would think. As my feet move against the concrete floor I hear the occasional whimper. The closer I get the more the silhouette figures become clearer. Two men stand behind my cousin. His trusted bodyguards. Two other men are tied with chains

Denise's POVGregory opens the car door and I slip in. My hands wrapped around my body a layer of protection of some sort. “You can relax, I don't bite”. My head jerks to the owner of the voice. “All though I am good at making good hickeys”. He smirks at me making my heart thud loudly. The driver takes a path that doesn't lead to the house. “ Are you taking another route to the house?” I asked the driver. Gregory beat him in answering. “We aren't going home”. My eyes narrow at him. “You're finally going to do it”. I murmur a bit mortified.“Do what?”. His face gives nothing away. “You're finally going to dispose of me”. Shock crosses his face but it leaves so fast like lightning. He burst into laughter, a deep rumble that set fire in my belly. “I think you watch too many movies on your own”. He chuckles. He moves his body closer to mine, making me shift till my body is fully rested on the door and there is no escape for me. He moves his mouth to my ear, his lips grazing my ear.

Denise's POVI have grown tired, tired of everything and everyone. When Gregory called me little bird a huge load crushed me. It brought back memories of the nice way he treated me. The sweet nothings he would whisper in my ear. Words he would say before he went on the trip that changed the course of things for the worse.Little bird was a big trigger. How he could sit there and call me little bird without an inkling of understanding what it meant to me, to us. Messing with my head like I hadn't been through enough already. I had accepted my fate of being unlucky. I had accepted my fate that my daughter would be taken away from me because I didn't have the power to fight it. No matter the determination I had, I already sealed my fate with the contract, I had accepted it. No matter how much I had tried to conjure possibilities, faith and what not. Deep down in my subconscious I knew the outcome. I knew it like I knew my very name. Then he comes up and calls me a little bird just like